A thousand goalposts
by barrani
Summary: Spencers thoughts and memories about the difference in the two beautiful women he's loved. Painful memories, and a little action. But not too graphic. Not quite M, but definitely not T


A/N All right so I know I should be putting up another chapter for any one of my three stories instead of this. And I am sorry. But hopefully they will be written and posted soon. This story evolved quite a bit as I wrote it out. Initially it wasjust the beginning, the flashback, and the realization. Then all this other stuff started happening. And I hit a personal milestone, 3,000+ words. Well that's enough of me talking. On with the story. I own nothing.

She lay naked asleep in his arms. He smiled. How did he get to be so lucky? How did something like this happen?

His hands softly stroked her body. He reveled in the fact that he could do this. That he had permission to do this. That she wasn't going to get mad. That she wasn't going to knock his hands away. That she actually enjoyed it.

He lowered his head into her hair and took a long whiff. The scent of tropical flowers floated to his nostrils. He wasn't sure what flower it was. Genius or not, he didn't know everything. If someone told him the name of the flower, he probably knew some random bit of trivia about it, but he couldn't identify it by scent alone.

In any case, it smelled nice. It drew his mind to faraway places. To white sandy beaches. To palm trees. To drinks with umbrellas in them. To sunsets on a sailboat.

With her in his arms, of course. No fantasy would be complete without her. Not anymore.

He might have to do that – take her away to some exotic isle.

Some place where no one knew them. Where they could be free. Where they wouldn't have to hide their relationship. Where he could hold her next to him and it would not cause a catastrophe.

He could see it now, walking alongside the ocean. He had his hand on hers. Her body pressed to his. She was wearing a black string bikini.

That image alone would be worth the cost of the flight.

He would definitely have to consider taking her on vacation.

He would sell her on the beaches, the warmth, the ocean, tropical drinks, the fact that they could be a couple in public. He wouldn't mention the bikini – that was only a selling point for him.

She really was beautiful.

This was one of his all-time favorite things. Watching her while she slept. Being able to unabashedly adore the woman he loved. To memorize her features.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and not just because she was real. Not just because he could touch her. Not just because she let him touch her. Not just because he loved her.

Because she really was that beautiful.

He remembered the first time he had been affected by beauty. He remembered the consequences.

Alexa Lisben.

He was smitten with her from the moment he saw her. He didn't understand it at first. He was still a child. Barely twelve years old. But he figured it out.

He followed her around a bit. Not too much, classes and schoolwork still took up most of his time. But when he could, he looked for her. He stayed a discreet distance away. He didn't want her to know. She wouldn't reciprocate. He was only twelve.

She might sic the football team on him.

He could still remember that day in the library. A day forever burned in his memory.

It was a Tuesday. He was reading "Paradise Lost" for his English class.

It was supposed to be an ordinary day. Nothing was supposed to happen.

Harper Hillman changed all that.

She told him that Alexa was waiting for him behind the fieldhouse. For the first time in his life his heart soared – a unique and wonderful experience.

He should have known something was wrong. Why would Alexa be waiting for him? What would the prettiest girl in school want with him?

But he wasn't thinking logically. For once his brain wasn't in control. His heart was.

He stood up quickly and ran to the field house.

He had never been much for athletics. Didn't even want to play T-Ball as a child. But today he ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

He slowed down before the got to the field house. He didn't want to be out of breath when she saw him.

Breath.

He exhaled hard onto his hand to check his breath. It smelled fine.

He smiled real big.

He didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew it was going to be good.

Alexa was older. Much older. She had done stuff. Stuff he was starting to think about. Starting to fantasize about.

The field house was just ahead and to the left. He turned the corner and there she was. For a moment she was there and she was all he focused on. His whole world consisted of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

But the moment was quickly shattered when he heard a chuckle. An insidious chuckle. A malevolent chuckle. A chuckle that scared him to his core.

The entire football team materialized and slowly started advancing on him.

He slowly and fearfully backed away. His little body was shrinking in hopes that if he made himself small enough they wouldn't see him.

It was too late. They already had him in their sights.

Now he knew what it felt like in those nature videos when the lonely gazelle was stalked by the pride of lions.

Like any good gazelle, he tried to make a break for it.

Maybe if he ran they would leave him alone.

Maybe he would get away.

His short little legs pounded the grounded, pumping faster than they had ever pumped before. Faster even than when he ran here. Now he was running for his life. His life depended on his running.

But it was the football team chasing him. Running was what they did.

His short little legs were not going to escape them so easily.

They caught up to him and viciously knocked him to the ground.

The breath in his lungs exploded out of him. He desperately sucked in trying to replace it. He couldn't. He wanted to move. To try again. But the pain in his chest as he tried to replace the lost oxygen kept him down.

They picked him and effortlessly carried him off. He looked up and saw her.

The girl that he had come to see.

She had a cruel smile on her lips.

He begged her to stop them. One word from her and they would have let him down. One word and they would have let him go.

She only laughed.

They stopped. He was unceremoniously dropped on the ground.

Behind the players a crowd had started to form.

An audience to his humiliation.

Spectators all to his first taste of cruelty and betrayal.

Sure he had been teased tormented before. But nothing like this.

Hands reached in and roughly started to separate clothes from his body. Within in seconds he was naked.

Stripped bare for all the world to see.

He tried once again to run. He wasn't thinking rationally. Wasn't thinking with his vast intellect.

Spencer Reid was now acting on instinct. Instinct he had never used. Fight or flight. Adrenaline coursed through his veins trying to give him what he needed to escape.

He didn't make it two steps before they grabbed him and pulled him back.

They hoisted him up kicking and screaming.

His arms were pulled behind him. His wrists lashed together around a goalpost. His feet were pressed together. A rope was pulled across his ankles.

They pulled the ropes tight. The cords bit into the soft flesh. He was suspended in the air, the cords that trapped him keeping him from touching the ground.

He looked up. He looked into a sea of faces. So many faces. To him it seemed like the whole school had come to witness his humiliation.

He pleaded with them. Begged them. Anyone, please, let him down. Let him go.

No one moved.

He could hear the taunts. He could hear the comments.

"Lookit how little it is."

"Too bad everything's not as big as your brain."

"What now, smart boy?"

"What can your brains do for you now?"

They weren't clever. He was the only genius in the school. But they didn't have to be clever. They only had to be cruel.

He gave up on anyone helping. He struggled against the rope, hoping he could free himself. Hoping he could get away.

But the rope was strong and he was not.

This only brought on more laughter and more jeers.

Time lost all meaning. He didn't know how long they stayed. It felt like a lifetime. A thousand lifetimes.

He lost feeling in his hands and feet. The ropes were cutting off blood flow. He whimpered now, there were no more tears left.

The crowd slowly, painfully slowly, filed out. They were bored.

They left him tied to the goal post.

No one bothered to free him.

Finally he was all alone. No one was left to laugh at him. No one to mock him.

No one to help him.

He struggled against the ropes. There was no pain; his body was numb. If only the rest of him was.

The sun slowly set in the distance.

His mother would be missing him. She would send someone. Any minute now he would be free.

No one came. Night fell over the football field.

He tried again with the ropes, and they loosened fractionally. Hope filtered back in.

It took him hours, but finally he was free of the ropes that had held him captive.

But he was never free of the memory.

He shook his head trying to clear the painful memory from his thoughts.

He had avoided women following that. He finished high school and college without any problems.

/

Then he was recruited into the BAU.

That's where he met JJ. He had a crush on her from day one. She was different. She was sweet. She didn't treat him like all of the other girls. And she was gorgeous.

He wanted to ask her out for a long time, before Gideon gave him the tickets to that Redskins game. He had never been more nervous before that moment. Standing there in the jet asking her is she wanted to go to the game, he could feel his heating pounding against his chest. Pounding so hard it threatened to burst through. The blood rushing through his ears almost blocked out her acceptance.

The date didn't go well. It wasn't bad, it just didn't go well. They didn't click. He wasn't sure what was wrong. It just didn't feel right. For either of them. But she was still his friend. Still someone who had his back. Who protected him. That was unique. That was different. For that she would always hold a special place in his heart.

Then She came into his life.

She was like him. A nerd.

An outcast.

And he had treated her like crap.

He still winced when he thought back to that time. She didn't deserve it.

But she had stuck by him.

He slowly got himself clean. She was there for him. He no matter how mean he had been he hadn't been able to get rid of her.

He started to hope in an impossible dream. Started to dream of what would never be. Slowly he let her in. Bit by bit, until she was past all of his defenses.

He resolved in a moment of foolish courage to put his chips on the table and ask her out. It took him three tries to get it out. He stammered so badly he didn't know how she knew what he wanted. He was so afraid she would say no. It's what he expected to hear.

He was so elated when she instead said yes.

For the first thirty minutes of their date he trembled. He kept expecting it to go badly.

She put her hand on his and spoke softly to him, "I'm having fun, Spencer. It's OK. You don't

have to be afraid."

He didn't calm down completely, but he did calm down a bit.

She gave him his first kiss. He had been too scared to make a move. Somehow she knew.

She took the pressure off by doing it for him.

It was even better than he'd dreamed.

A couple of dates later she invited him up for a coffee.

He didn't answer her. He had heard about what coffee in this context meant.

Fear paralyzed him.

Someone was going to see him naked. Wold she laugh like everyone else?

Would he be bad, would she kick him out?

Then she was there, and she gently put her hand on his face and drew it down so that he was looking at her. "It's OK if you don't. We don't have to rush. We could also go up and take it slow."

"Slow?" He managed to get out.

She gave him a comforting smile, "Yeah, slow."

He allowed himself to be led up the stairs and into her apartment.

He stood frozen in place in the living room.

"I'll be right back." she said leaving for a moment.

Time slowed down until it crawled as he waited for her to return.

She came back with two glasses of wine. He took a sip. It did little to calm his jangled nerves.

She took his hands in hers. "Is this your first time?"

He could only nod.

She lifted his hand and lovingly kissed it. She placed it on her face.

The connection calmed him slightly.

Slowly she guided the hand down her cheek. To her chin. Onto her neck. Alongside her shoulder. Down the front of her chest. Onto her breast, stopping over her heart.

He gulped. He could feel her under the shirt, the heat warming his hand, warming his entire body.

She stepped into his space, leaving little distance between his body and hers. She let go of his hand and put hers on his face and shoulder. He kept his where it was.

She slowly drew his head down to her lips. The kiss was soft and sweet. Gentle.

Then he could feel something wet moving against his lips. Something that wanted to be let in. He opened is lips and it moved in searching for its mate. It found it.

His brain stopped working.

For a few seconds he could not form a thought. The combination of his hand's location and the kiss robbed him of his cognitive abilities.

It was glorious.

He didn't notice that as she kissed him, her hands were moving down his body. To the bottom of his shirt. They grabbed the edges and languidly lifted.

Cold air hitting skin brought him back to the present.

He pulled back.

She saw the fear in his eyes. The fear of inadequacy. Of not being enough.

She had seen it in the mirror too many times not to recognize it.

"It's OK." she said gently. She pulled her own top off. He stopped in his tracks. He was mesmerized by what he saw. Milky smooth skin. He looked where his hand had been moments ago. A black bra hid them. But not well enough.

He unconsciously licked his lips.

She unhurriedly moved towards him. She didn't want to spook him again. She drew his lips back to hers. His hands hung helplessly in space. That wouldn't do. She guided them back to where they belonged. Back to her body.

He started stroking. Small movements, but still they made her purr.

That was his new favorite sound.

She guided him back to the bedroom, never letting her lips leave his body. Making sure that she was always touching him.

She drew him back to the bed. She climbed on, dragging him with her.

She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, discarding it to the side. He broke away from her lips to stare transfixed.

Shyly he reached forward and touched with the tip of his finger. Courage seeping into his body, he moved his hands forward so that his fingers were lightly grasping hot flesh. His hand continued to move in until the globe filled it. She arched her back slightly, pushing it even more into his hand.

She reached forward and again grasped the bottom of his shirt and slowly lifted up. Seeing the fear once again in his eyes she moved her head so that he was looking into her eyes. "It's OK. I promise."

He was still afraid. She could see it. She tried to convey as much warmth, calm, and love as she could. She lifted the shirt over his head and tossed it off to the side.

He shrank back. She briefly wondered who had put this fear into him. She hated whoever it was. She would gladly kick the crap out of them. Who would want to hurt someone like him? He deserved to be loved. He deserved to be cared for.

He did not deserve to be treated badly. To be made to feel scared. Worthless.

She tried to make up for what the other person had done, "So beautiful."

"You are."

"No." Punctuating the words by staring into his eyes, "You are."

He blushed.

"Look at me," she repeated. He finally met her eyes. "You are beautiful," she assured him.

Things picked up speed after that. All too soon for him it was over.

He felt bad. It should have lasted longer. It wasn't good enough.

She could see the blame and self recrimination. "It was good."

"No it wasn't. I came too quickly. I didn't take care of you."

"Spencer, you did good! No one is great their first time. No one. You were very good." She smiled deviously, "More importantly, this will give you the excuse to spend lots of time here practicing."

He smiled.

He was better the second time. He lasted longer.

He was even better the last time.

What was it they said? Practice makes perfect.

He was definitely going to keep practicing as much as possible.

She had drifted off to sleep. He stayed awake. He should have been the one to sleep, not her. But the events of the day were too amazing. He was afraid if he went to sleep, when he woke up this would all be a dream.

That he would be back in his bed. Alone.

He pulled her body in tighter, taking comfort in her presence.

This time he got the beautiful girl. This time he got to do the things he fantasized about. This time she wasn't cruel.

She was kind. She was thoughtful. She was there for him. She understood.

He wondered if he'd had to go through that horrible day to have a day this spectacular – if the universe needed balance.

If so, he would go through a thousand goalposts for one more day with her.

/

He woke the next day slowly. He was lying on his back. For a brief moment terror gripped his heart. What if it was all a dream?

He shot upright. He looked over. Happiness and relief filled his soul. Emily Prentiss in all her naked glory was lying next to him.

It wasn't a dream. It really happened.

His fingers started to trace her body.

She stirred. "It's early – go back to sleep."

"Sleep? Who wants to sleep? I want to practice. They say practice makes perfect."

"Do they now?" She rolled over and his eyes feasted on the heavenly view.

_Definitely would go through a thousand goal posts for this._

A/N I hope you liked this little fic. If you did please post a review. If you didn't let me know how I could do better. Also sorry I cut the steamy bits out, I still can't write smut. But please before you go leave a review, they truly are wonderful things.


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